The Holding Caves
by Lehava Shadowsong
Summary: A runaway apostate is cornered in the Holding Caves of the Free Marches. Unable to retrieve him themselves the Templars hire specialized help. m!HawkexFenris, dom!Fenris, a little bit of bondage and some S&M.


**Author's Note: **Another gift fic with mage!Hawke and Fennie. This one is a bit more AU-ish, and includes dom!Fenris. Written for my lovely friend and pervy comic artist, Buukkin. You can find her on y!gall under that name if you like HawkexFennie comics. I also have drabbles up there as well under the name tylmarande (cookies to those of you who know who that is!)

_The Holding Caves_

by ClaretAmazon

Garrett clutched his bleeding arm, eyes frantically roaming over the stones of his prison. The Holding Caves of Sundermount had been a good place to hide from the Templars. It was not anymore.

Unable to dig him out the Templars had hired an experienced personage, someone with knowledge of how the Cells worked. A Hunter. Someone that hid in the shadows, chasing him through the old passages. Corralling him somewhere with alternatingly locked and unlocked doors. The mage had a feeling he was going in circles, each hall looked the same with the carved screaming men on the walls.

He stumbled through another door and fell to his knees. The Concentrated Magebane in his blood had drained him, left him weak and tired. All he wanted to do was just lay down. Sleep away the lethargy that came with all his mana escaping him in a burst of blue and gold. Pretty... if you weren't the one being drained. Sleep could wait till later, after he'd killed his persuer. He would not let the Templars take him.

His feet were gained with a small struggle and the human hobbled towards the door. Garrett gasped as an unholy sound filled the air. Metal on stone, scrapping, screeching, making his teeth hurt and bones ache. That sound his Hunter made to send him scurrying faster along the chosen path. To let him know that he was close.

The wolf chasing the rabbit, toying with it's meal.

Metal claws... that was what made the sound. They had gouged his flesh when the Magebane had been forced into his system and then stripped him of his robes. The only thing he knew of his Hunter, except for his voice. When his struggles had dimmed he had felt hot breath on his cheek, a brief brush of smirking lips against his ear. Then a deep, husky voice, tainted with lust, and tinged with some exotic flair:'I will make you rue the day you did not turn yourself over to the Templars, mage... after I've had my fun with you. Now... run.'

Oh, how he had run. Slamming doors open, cutting his feet on the harsh floors, until he'd collapsed. Heart pounding in his chest like it would explode any second, panting harshly. That's when the sound had started.

Another portal and he was in a circular room. The center of the Caves. If the northern door was unlocked he could flee. Two rooms that led to the back entrance. A slim hope but hope nonetheless. If his Hunter didn't find him, if the Templars weren't waiting for him...

Everything went black halfway through.

He came to with a groan, just in time to be forced ass up over something. It was wood, cornered and rough, digging under his ribcage and into his gut. Ropes were tied around his ankles, binding them to the legs of the object. His arms were pulled back, hands pushed up as more rope was looped around them, then around his neck. He was exposed and bound, completely at the others mercy.

Magebane, rope, blindfold, whatever this thing was he was tied to... his Hunter had planned ahead. It chilled him to the bone. What else did he have in store?

He could hear nothing besides his own panicked gasps, the drip of water somewhere nearby and his heart beating wildly. As the silence stretched horrible scenarios filled his mind. Had he been left here alone? Was the Hunter fetching the Templars after leaving him like this? His skin prickled at the thought of being touched by those lyrium-addicted bastards. Garrett would rather die then let them touch him.

"You're awake."

The mage jerked in his bonds. He was standing right in front of him! "Who are you? I won't let you take me to the Templars!" If only he had his mana, his staff, he wouldn't be in this position. While his mind grasped at 'if only' his body responded to that voice. Pure velvet, black and luxurious as it slid over him. Blood surged into his groin and his cock hardened.

A dark chuckle was his only response at first. Cold metal skimmed over his back, grabbing at his ass and then lower. His feet were bare whispers as he moved around him. "I am the one who decides if you go to them, Apostate. I am your Master, your final Judge." Fingers closed around his growing erection, one cruel iron tip rubbing against his slit. "You are nothing here."

"I am not nothing!"

"You are nothing, apostate. You are nothing but a hole to be used for my pleasure. I will subdue you even more if I must, but I think that you're far more eager for this then you say."

Garrett couldn't help moaning, thrusting, as his flesh was teased. The icy metal was countered by the heat of his captor's palm as the man worked him to full arousal. He knew what he was doing and even though it scared him it made his wakening lust soar. In this position he truly was nothing. The Hunter could do anything he wished to him like this, and he'd let him. His streak of submission had always been hidden, locked away as he ran for his life.

The human went limp, surrendering to the other man. He was right, he wanted this. If he was to be turned over to the Templars, he may as well take a better memory with him.

He whimpered when the hand disappeared, hips bucking against air. Touch returned a moment later as something flexible ran over his back and buttocks. A rod? The end of it had a small flare that promised to leave marks. Garrett arched as far as his position allowed, begging for the pain with small noises as the cane danced over his thighs, his arms, across his cheek.

"Messere... please, I-" Hawke cried out and jerked in his bonds as the sudden sting of the rod blossomed on his bottom.

The Hunter's gauntlet returned, running over his back and the welting stripe. Another strike across his lower back, then his buttocks. The hand returned, soothing the hot pain from his flesh. Strikes and carresses alternated as he offered himself for the abuse, sweet wails leaving his throat with every new line of agony.

Everything outside of that moment faded away. All that mattered was his Master's touch and aroused panting, the heavy ache of his erection, the blissful so-right hurt. "Please, more, Master, so good... so good..."

Four strikes fell, harder then the others, across his buttocks and thighs. They wrenched a scream from him and he sobbed at the pain and pleasure. He cried out again, would have come if not for the hand around his cock, as teeth dug into his rear end. They cut flesh and it would scar, a permanent mark of his Master's ownership. Hawke twisted, struggling in his bondage, wanting more, pleading for it wordlessly when he was let go.

His head was pulled up, the wet and searing crown of a cock placed against his lips. It was sucked in with a delighted moan. Garrett suckled the drops of precum from it until it was pushed further. His master didn't stop until his nose was buried in soft leather.

He worked his tongue over the throbbing flesh with each languid in and outward slide, relished the pleased sighs coming from above him. All he wanted to do was satisfy this man, his mind reduced to nothing but a content haze.

When the Hunter stepped away there was a chuckle. Amused as Garrett tried to follow the hard flesh, tongue reaching for one last taste. "I should hunt mages more often if this is how your kind react." Lips brushed over the apostates forehead, nose and lips, a tongue dipping between the prisoner's lips for a brief moment. "Don't worry, you'll have my cock again soon."

Warm oil was drizzled over his ass, the aroma of something spicy and sweet spiking the air. It was rubbed into his skin as the clawed tips of those tormenting fingers dug into the abused flesh. He moaned, very much at ease to just lay there and let him do what he would. The sooner he was oiled, his mind justified, the sooner he would have his Masters' cock.

His rectum was held open so that the oil could coat his walls. Bare fingers slipped inside him, causing him to arch his back. They slipped in and out of him, easily lubricated by the copious amount in him, stretching and twisting to ease the muscles. As he was stretched biting kisses were placed along his back. Some were harsher then others, gauranteed to leave marks.

Fingers vanished, soon replaced by the slide of his master's erection in his cleft. He moaned and whimpered, bucking as well as he could. "Master, please... fuck me!"

"Soon." With one last push against him the Hunter left him.

The ropes binding his ankles were cut away, the human pulled to his feet. Those that bound his wrists and around his neck were undone with expert fingers. "Get on your hands and knees, whore."

Garret quickly obeyed, not wishing to anger his Master any. Hands settled on his hips, pulling him back until the head of the others cock rested against his entrance.

"Take it." The order was growled out. When the mage didn't move, stunned, a heavy smack landed on his red ass. "If you want it that badly, take it."

He pushed back, moaning as resistance turned into acceptance and he was filled completely with thick, throbbing flesh. The hands on his hips tightened, holding him in place as a punishing rythym was set. Both men gasped for air, unable to hold on for long. The mage's captor fell first, and with a few tugs at his sex, the apostate followed him over.

Garrett squinted as the blindfold was removed. His Hunter... He stared at him, greedily drink in the sight. Shaggy white hair, green eyes, covered in blue tattoo's... and an elf. Exotic, handsome and smirking at him. That one look was all it took to realize he could never be anyone elses.

"I believe I shall keep you, apostate." He murmured as he stole a kiss from the human.

"I am yours, Hunter."

* * *

><p>Varric smiled as the last page of the story was set down. The much abused quill was set back into the empty ink pot as he sat back. If Fenris and Hawke knew that the last round of... 'stories' were his doing they would kill him. Yet it was worth it. All the noblewomen and quite a few men bought up the copies like a drunk bought alcohol, paying an exorbitant amount of gold for them.<p>

"Wait till the Rivaini reads this one." He chuckled to himself as he stroked Bianca.


End file.
